Category: Storytelling

  • The Shape of the Character Arc

    The Shape of the Character Arc

    Character arc refers to the changes that take place within a single character throughout the course of an entire story (or even across several stories) told in the same universe. While not every tale has such an arc, many do. It can be one of the most important aspects of storytelling, as it provides the growth and development that makes stories relatable and characters memorable. Many authors have different ideas about what exactly character arc is and how to create it, but this article will help you understand just what it entails and why you should care when writing your own fiction!

    What is a Character Arc?

    A character arc, in its simplest form, is a change or transformation in a character. This transformation happens over time, usually over several episodes of a TV show or even within one episode. There are many types of character arcs but two major categories, stories where characters start as good and become evil (sometimes known as villain arcs) and tales where characters start out as bad but end up redeeming themselves (redemption arcs). These arcs can be minor or complete transformations depending on your needs for your story.

    There are several types of character arcs. The five most common are: Eustress (Positive), Distress (Negative), Flat, Upward Spiral, Downward Spiral. Eustress is a positive growth arc where your character becomes more successful through his journey to resolve his conflict. In a distress arc, your characters become less successful as he deals with obstacles in his way to achieve resolution to his conflict. A flat arc does not follow one of these traditional paths but can be anything that evolves your character over time by adding depth or layers and making them more complex. An upward spiral is when a good person tries to do something bad but then makes it right during their journey while they descend into darkness when a bad person tries to do something good but ends up making it wrong (or worse) along their journey. Finally, downward spirals happen when someone who’s bad keeps doing bad things until they reach rock bottom.

    How Can You Spot a Good Character Arc?

    Characters who go through transformations must eventually return to normalcy—but with something new learned from those experiences. Without exception, every hero will have gone on some type of journey before reaching a resolution. This can mean fighting off villains, discovering hidden knowledge about oneself, or saving someone close to them. Even if our heroes don’t emerge completely unscathed from battle, they still have made progress toward self-actualization.

    What really defines a great character arc is being able to find meaning in that journey. Your story’s protagonist must learn an important lesson or truth that he or she can take with them in life. Ideally, your readers will see something of themselves reflected in your characters—whether it’s enduring struggle, love lost or gained, or simply what it means to be human—and come away from it feeling changed for having read it. In order for a character arc to work properly, you a believable reason for change.

    The goal of any author should be to write stories that will leave an impact on readers, both emotionally and mentally. How well we do that depends not only on what happens in our plots but also on how our characters grow from beginning to end. If you’re just starting out as a writer or have been at it for years but aren’t seeing much progress in terms of personal growth for your main characters, ask yourself why that is. Are you trying too hard to follow formulaic story patterns or are you overly focused on events? If you keep telling yourself that there’s no actual difference between one protagonist and another, take some time to reflect on what truly makes them unique individuals. The answer might surprise you!

    How to Create a Great Character Arc

    While different writers approach characterization in various ways, there are two principal schools of thought: transformative arc vs. personal growth arc. Understanding each helps you better understand your options as a writer.

    In a transformative arc, external factors drive change, such as loss or hardship. In The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, for example, Tom Joad finds himself transformed from an honest man to a cold-blooded killer when his family loses their farm because of financial hardships caused by bankers.

    Through a personal growth arc, protagonists find their true identity through introspection. A great example is Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. Huck goes on an adventure that forces him to reevaluate what he knows of society and life. The friendship that ensues shows Huck that there’s more to life than just living for money; instead, it should be about finding yourself and living free.

    There are four major steps to creating a solid character arc. Each step requires considering both sides of your story—good people becoming evil or vice versa—and reinforcing each step so that it builds on itself.

    The Start

    First, think about where your story starts: Who is your protagonist? What’s his or her life like? Figure out exactly what your start will be for your character; what does their life look like at its very best right now? To help yourself find ideas, try taking inventory of everything that makes up their current best life. Whatever you come up with, dig deep: don’t just list things off quickly or you might miss something important.

    Once you’ve figured out what makes your character happy, look to see if there’s anything missing from their lives—and if there is, ask yourself why they feel that way. Maybe they struggle to cope with stress every day, even though other people seem fine when going through similar situations. Maybe they become prone to lying when given certain opportunities, even though it goes against all of their core values.

    No matter why it happens once you discover a reason for them feeling unhappy, then you can connect those feelings to their past decisions. These pain points may be small or large, but once you realize what could have caused them, you should be able to develop your character further by asking questions about what led up to these events. Then explore any consequences stemming from choices made down the line. Sometimes characters who lie only ever tell white lies without realizing it because somewhere along the line somebody taught them that saying half-truths could save face in tough situations—so always ask why things happen too!

    The Journey

     

     

    What lesson is important to you? Their outlook on life may have changed, or they may have gained a better understanding of themselves. Or they might not even realize what they’ve learned until later. Consider a character who learns that all that glitters isn’t gold—that something valuable doesn’t mean it will last or be as valuable in another form. For example, your hero could lose everything they own in a fire but come out more optimistic because of it. Maybe their loss taught them how to appreciate what was important—family, friends, home. Maybe they lost all their stuff but realized what didn’t matter at all—an impressive car or designer clothes.

    Whatever it is, keep it simple. Don’t worry about mapping out every single lesson learned by your character; that’s not important. In fact, sometimes learning a bit more slowly can be more interesting to watch (just ask Luke Skywalker). All that matters is that in your story they realize an important truth—or simply grow as a person—and then choose to carry that with them throughout whatever lies ahead for them. Remember, just because something doesn’t end up making sense within the plot doesn’t mean it won’t make sense within your character’s story arc. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Consider both when writing and thinking about your characters’ journeys.

    The Progress

    Talk directly about how she changes because of her experiences; don’t rely on backstory alone! explain why change is necessary for your character. Include examples from his past that suggest just how important it is for him to learn these lessons. Decide how you’re going to illustrate that learning process through concrete plot points—what will happen in each chapter that will show readers exactly how much progress your character has made? Explain why change is necessary for your character. Include examples from his past that suggest just how important it is for him to learn these lessons. Make sure these events are appropriate for your reader’s experience.

    You also want to make sure these events tie back into either of your story’s two major themes. The character arc doesn’t need to advance every step of the way; often, it may stall out temporarily before picking up again later on. But it should always move forward overall. If there is no movement, or if it advances but then falls backward, consider revising or deleting portions of your story. Having a complete character arc can be extremely difficult for some authors, so don’t worry if yours feels like an unfinished project when you work with an editor. Save all those other details (such as motivations) until after your draft, since they may force significant changes within your characters’ development arcs. Again, at least try to touch upon them with some general notes during revision!

    The Big Picture

    The character arc is simply a way of expressing a character’s change in attitude, values, or both during a story. The change can be slow or quick; characters don’t have to go from being good to bad, or vice versa. Sometimes they end up somewhere in between—still imperfect but striving for improvement. Through a well thought out arc, characters change over time thanks to events in their lives, ultimately revealing something about themselves. As an author, knowing how your story ends before you write will help you develop each of your characters more fully.

    Since readers often relate to your main character—especially if she goes through an arc—knowing what she starts as and where she ends will help paint her realistically on the page… no matter where her journey takes her. This concept also applies when developing secondary (or even tertiary) characters: Knowing who they are at first will give you an idea of who they become as events unfold in your narrative, creating realistic outcomes based on their personalities as established early on.

    In every work of fiction, there is a discernible pattern toward an overall dramatic resolution.

    When handled properly, it creates a unique tension between expectation and reality. When handled poorly, it comes across as artificial contrivance meant only to shock. Understanding the requirements of a logical and successful character arc allows you to use it effectively regardless of genre or style — mystery, romance, suspense thriller, comedy, science fiction … all genres benefit from understanding and applying one important aspect in storytelling: Change must occur if we want our stories to be taken seriously. Choosing wisely which changes belong within your plot is key to telling an engaging tale others will want to hear again and again. Through careful planning, you can avoid wasted effort.

    -R.E.

  • Death and it’s Brilliant Life in Fiction

    Death and it’s Brilliant Life in Fiction

    For as long as people have told stories, they’ve used death to show the finality of characters’ lives and their own fears of mortality in the audience. Death serves many purposes within fiction, but its exact nature can vary widely depending on the point of view of the author and the context in which it occurs. No matter how you choose to use death in your fiction, however, there are some universal truths that every writer should know before tackling this powerful topic.

    Death as Motivation

     In fiction, death is often a character’s motivation. There are countless stories where someone lost their life, and now their family wants to avenge them. Although it may seem like we use death as a blunt tool to move a plot forward, it can have much more significance. In John Steinbeck’s East of Eden, Cathy Ames sees her own experience mirrored by that of her dead mother and becomes an entirely different person who finally has some semblance of what it means to be alive.

    Similarly, Hamlet spends most of his story trying to exact revenge for his father, King Hamlet—and although he accomplishes that task at last through bloody murder, Hamlet gains far more from learning who he really is than from gaining a pound of flesh. It seems obvious at first glance: characters use death as fuel for action and passion in narratives all over literature. But there’s so much nuance here beyond just oh I see why you would use your parent’s or child’s death to push your character into doing something! Well done you! Instead, these tragedies—or accidental deaths or murders—can deepen our understanding of characters both within a story and outside one.

    Death as Ritual

    There’s something inherently fascinating about death, especially with fictional characters. Why is it a character’s death can completely enrage us, yet also moved to tears? Why is it we find value in certain character deaths and not others? We aren’t reading about real people—we can accept (for example) a murder victim as an unfortunate part of a detective novel without having our own feelings towards homicide affected. So, what makes one character’s death stick with us more than another?

    The answer may lie in ritual. Whether characters are aware of their impending doom or ignorant until it’s too late (think The Sixth Sense), most fictional deaths follow a somewhat formulaic structure. What does ritual do for us? To put it simply, a pattern like death creates order where there might otherwise be chaos. By following specific steps each time we go through a process (like dying), we know how things will play out before they happen—and afterwards. This predictability comforts us; if things don’t go according to plan… well, plans rarely go off exactly as intended, anyway.

    Ritual also promotes progression: knowing that things will probably turn out well after death means that you have nothing to lose by being aggressive; you’ll still end up at your ultimate destination regardless of how hard you push yourself on route there.

    Finally, ritual helps us cope. Not only do we need some sort of closure regarding our lives, but seeing other characters deal with death allows us to feel okay about it ourselves—after all, someone else went through it successfully, so perhaps we’ll make it out alive as well. I’ll link these two points using Dracula, which follows both dramatic death scenes and classic vampire folklore to create an atmosphere in which any random character has a chance of getting picked off next… while forcing several other characters into unnatural sleep during daytime hours before setting them free again at nightfall. For someone who’s terrified by vampires, surviving Dracula must feel akin to living inside her own personal Hollywood horror movie!

    Death as Catalyst

    In both film and literature, we often use death as a catalyst for significant change. Some stories hinge on its use as a plot device—the inciting incident that gets everything going. Others use it to illustrate how even life’s most terrible moments can be valuable for their ability to bring people together. For example, The Fault in Our Stars uses death to give Hazel and Gus’ relationship new meaning and drive.

    While death is an unavoidable part of life, fiction gives us the opportunity to reflect on what it means and how we live our lives by showing us how others handle theirs—especially when they’ve lived short ones. Understanding that helps us find value in ourselves as well. No matter what your interests or goals are, no matter where you are in your career or your day-to-day life, there is value to be found somewhere. Whether you’re living out your dreams or daydreaming about doing so, you always have something special to add—even if it doesn’t seem like it sometimes.

    Looking at death through fiction gives us insight into genuine life, love, and loss. This can help us learn not only why others should appreciate us but also how we should appreciate them as well; even more important than that, though, it shows us why we should appreciate ourselves.

    Death as Plot Device

    A common occurrence in fiction is death as a plot device. It doesn’t matter if it’s a main character or minor character, everyone dies. If you are considering killing someone off, think about whether that death has any real meaning to your story. If it does, great! Write on. However, if it seems like a hollow addition to your story and there’s no other reason for their death to occur besides adding some excitement, then consider replacing that with something else that is more purposeful to your story (another conflict? A betrayal? Someone lying unconscious on the ground?).

    The removal of one detail may add to your overall story by allowing another to take its place. If they die—who gets their stuff? Often when characters die, a lot of authors will just jump into what new things they can gain from those characters passing. Do you do that? Consider instead changing things so those objects don’t exist anymore (or at least change what they can do). This allows room for another set of elements in your world, which helps change how we view reality and challenge expectations throughout a book. Just because people love The Lord of the Rings, doesn’t mean we should all be writing books with spellbound doors; but books where magical items have changed based on previous experience might really bring magic back into our worlds!

    Death as Message

    Readers will often interpret characters’ deaths as a message or lesson. In these cases, death is used to emphasize how precarious life is. This practice is most common among characters who the writer hopes will elicit emotional responses from readers. For example, we often use death to get readers to empathize with a protagonist or champion their cause. Other times, authors use tragic deaths to impart wisdom (e.g., what not to do) or teach important lessons (e.g., those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it). If your goal is to convey something significant through character death, make sure you choose your victims wisely—or you might end up with a message that no one likes!

    Death as Tragedy

    One of our greatest fears is death; we hope it never happens. When it does, we grieve. But even though death is inevitable, rarely do fiction writers truly allow their characters to come to terms with what that means. In real life, grieving and mourning are a slow process as we accept that our loved one won’t be around anymore. But in fiction, someone usually dies suddenly or violently and then they’re gone—the end. Perhaps some grief will linger on, but otherwise, there’s no working through it. When a character dies unexpectedly or violently at the hands of another character or from an outside force like disease or natural disaster, it could (and often does) make for great drama.

    Tragedy is drama. A tragedy involves an individual and all those around them, led to self-destruction by a tragic flaw or fatal character flaw. In Shakespeare’s tragedies (the most famous being Hamlet), death often comes at a critical turning point, especially when an individual cannot act on crucial information. For example, in Shakespeare’s play Julius Caesar, Mark Antony is murdered during his funeral.

    This leads to more chaos among Caesar’s political supporters, who cannot understand that Brutus has killed Antony not because he thinks Caesar shouldn’t be honored, but because he wants revenge for Caesar’s death. The result of Brutus’ actions is destruction as civil war breaks out shortly after Caesar’s murder. Because no one could stop their vengeful behavior, they suffer before Rome finally emerges under Augustus Caesar (who turns out to have been part of Marcus Antonius’ plot all along).

    Death as Mystery

    There’s something morbidly exciting about murder mysteries. Even if you don’t know who killed poor Mr. Boddy, there’s a certain thrill to solving even an imaginary crime. This isn’t entirely surprising: although we might not like to admit it, death is terrifying. When it happens at our own hands (either actively or passively), and when we do not know how or why it happened, it can feel almost suffocating. We want answers; understanding gives us power over both death and fear. The death of a fictional character offers all these things and more—and that’s why so many readers get hooked on murder mysteries!

    One of my favorite things about reading mysteries is that they often lead to some serious contemplation. There’s something enticing about death—the fact that it’s so out of our control is fascinating to me, and what better way to think about mortality than through a good mystery? When you have time, try watching Sherlock (another substantial source for death-related contemplation) or pick up any thriller by Gillian Flynn—you won’t regret it. If all else fails, at least you’ll get an entertaining story!

    Death From Behind the Scenes

    In real life, we don’t know when death will come, and that has always been true. But now, more than ever before, we can imagine a world without death—thanks to medicine and technology. What does it mean for storytelling if characters can’t die? Will death remain an important part of narrative? If not, what purpose does it serve?

    In literature, death is a versatile character. As humans try to make sense of death, they look at life’s most popular stories. Themes involving death are prevalent throughout fiction; after all, when was the last time you read a story without at least one death? What’s more interesting is how writers use death as an active agent rather than just an element of storytelling. Whether it’s exposing characters’ motivations or tricking readers into turning pages faster—death is used strategically and often memorably.

    We’re entering a world where our lack of understanding regarding death will become increasingly unrealistic. But even if science catches up and surpasses our imagination, we’ll always need stories to explore themes like love, greed, hate, ambition—and yes… even death. So perhaps our best bet is to embrace uncertainty by seeking innovative ways for authors and artists to integrate mortality into fictional worlds.

    We’ll always be curious about death—no matter how it’s presented—because it promises change and fulfillment from deep within ourselves. Fictional deaths will never replace real ones—but maybe we should let both remind us that nothing lasts forever.

    -R.E.

  • How Research Empowers Your Writing

    How Research Empowers Your Writing

    Coffee Talk:

    When you are writing fiction, thorough research can add realism to your narrative, heighten the sense of mystery in your story, and even help you to avoid clichés in your work. However, it’s important to remember that too much research can also get in the way of your storytelling and make it difficult for your readers to immerse themselves in the world you created. Use this guide on the power of research in writing fiction to learn how to get the most out of your research without wasting too much time getting bogged down in details you don’t need.

    Research Can Save Your Story

    An aspiring author might ask How can I incorporate research into my fiction? As part of their creative process, authors are faced with determining where information on a subject will be found. The general rule is that an author’s imagination is his primary research tool, but it’s also important to note that proper research can add realism to a narrative. Care should be taken, however, to avoid over researching and subsequently over describing when you are trying to relay the information on a subject. As writer Stephen King said,

    ‘The story begins in the Writer’s imagination but ends in the readers.’

    The very best way to flesh out your story is by using your own vivid language so that you can paint a detailed picture for your reader’s mind. Always keep in mind why you are telling your story. Readers don’t want pages upon pages of descriptive paragraphs about how an object looks or feels. Instead they want you to get straight into narrating what happens next without stopping for dialogue or description.  Why were they on vacation? Where did they go? Who was with them? Why did they suddenly snap at their husband or wife when he mentioned how hungry he was while they were driving to dinner? It all matters because every detail of every sentence adds character development and more depth to your narrative.

    That depth must be properly managed with believable volume. 

    As we know, less is more and something as small as over-describing a room or a house can spoil an entire story if not handled appropriately. Equally, omitting details that add texture to characters and settings can leave the story feeling hollow. The proper research can literally save your story. If you are creating a character’s vehicle, you need to learn exactly how that vehicle operates. What are its features? What does it do when you push that button? How does it work when you turn on that knob? These kinds of questions will also lead you down avenues where you discover new ways for your character to interact with his car even in stressful situations which could lead to exceptional writing opportunities for these characters. As well writing styles evolve constantly so do rules for language use, better nuances added in descriptions enrich stories while time spent doing things well adds authenticity people crave from fiction they read today.

    Why is Research Important?

    When you write fiction, you want to give your readers as much authenticity as possible. To do that, you must do your research. Reading about how something is done and why it’s done a certain way will help you understand how to write about those activities and processes. For example, let’s say that one of your characters is a lawyer. Your character goes into court and presents his case. If you don’t know anything about what a lawyer does, it’ll be difficult for you to describe the courtroom scene accurately. But if you take time to learn about courtroom protocol and presentation tactics, then writing such a scene becomes easier because there won’t be any gaps or inaccuracies in your description. Through doing your own research, then honing that information into a story, you can create novels that are more authentic and realistic for readers—and achieve great success with them! Storytelling has been around since humans began telling tales around firesides.

    What Does Research Entail?

    Researching a story entails finding material to draw from. This may include government documents, records, interviews with real people or even simply referencing books or articles on similar topics. Once you have collected your information, organize it into relevant points that will be most useful to you as an author. Too much research can detract from your ability to tell a story quickly and accurately. Be aware of over-researching by outlining what you know about your subject matter before beginning research so that you don’t waste time gathering material that isn’t pertinent to your book’s plotline. The most important thing is choosing facts wisely; don’t overwhelm readers with unnecessary facts and figures, but make sure they know exactly what they need to know about their character or setting at any given moment during the narrative.

    When I’m writing about a specific model of boat, I learn as much as possible about that boat. The dimensions, the history – both manufacturing and sales – the reputation, the main competitors. I want to know what famous person loved it and who hated it. I need to know what color it never came in and what nickname it got from professional boat racers when it was introduced. When I’m writing about the boat, I need to know all of this to inform my image of the boat. The reader, however, just needs to know enough about the boat to inform the story.

    Tips For Using Research Wisely

    Good writers know when they’ve gotten as much as they can out of research and it’s time to start writing. A story is not a resource. It is something that must be carefully distilled, and if you’re focusing too much on your resources, you’re going to end up with a data dump rather than a story. The goal isn’t to cram in all available information about how something works or looks or behaves; instead, you need to find what’s essential and eliminate what isn’t. Carefully select your sources, use them well and wisely—and let them serve your story!

    The nuances that you uncover while researching are just as important as the more obvious facts.


    Do you have a sense of just how much detail you’re putting into your story? Are you spending more time describing settings and actions than advancing your plot? Are there sections where nothing much is happening, but you feel like you need to explain things instead of trusting your readers to infer for themselves? Is your character’s speech stiffer than it needs to be because you’ve found an online slang dictionary? If so, back up and take another look at what you’re doing. Just because it’s on Wikipedia doesn’t mean it belongs in your book.

    Too Much of a Good Thing

    Over-researching your story can be as much a problem as not researching enough. If you’re enjoying yourself too much digging up interesting tidbits, you can easily lose sight of your story’s ultimate purpose—telling an entertaining tale. Too many details will weigh down your prose and distract readers from what is actually happening. Use research to improve your writing, but don’t let it take over completely. Once you’ve collected all your information, close out those extra tabs; they won’t help you when your editor starts asking pointed questions about why each character speaks with a British accent. The key to weaving together fact and fiction is knowing when to stop researching so that you’re left with just enough detail for realism without overdoing it or exhausting yourself. That said, if something doesn’t sound right or makes no sense, don’t ignore it! Go back through everything again until everything aligns perfectly with each other.

    When you over-research, your writing style might suffer. You may find yourself spending too much time discussing minutiae rather than putting forth actionable prose for your reader. With either problem, you will lose your audience. Stay away from these pitfalls by remembering that less is more when researching your work.

    The Pitfalls of a Poorly Researched Story

    When you don’t take time to properly research your story, it has a tendency to read like fiction. Readers will catch on if they can spot inaccuracies in your characters or setting. They might not be sure exactly what is off, but they’ll notice that something isn’t right. Experts in certain fields won’t be too excited with inaccurate depictions of their daily lives. As fiction writers, we give from our imaginations, but those imaginations must be fed useful facts in order to properly function. A poorly researched story can come across as nothing more than nonsense without the proper underlying facts. Every good lie is based in truth. If there are no truths woven into your fictional world, then everything falls apart and becomes just that: fiction. Not just bad writing but writing that could seriously harm your professional reputation as an author.

    If you’ve put little effort into researching a topic, readers may start to wonder why any other aspect of your story deserves attention and consideration. If you go so far as to deliberately hide inconsistencies and mistakes for fear of ruining an otherwise engaging narrative or misleading readers about actual conditions…well, good luck convincing anyone of anything else again. Write at all costs? Not so much…not if that cost is one’s integrity as an artist and human being committed to telling honestly rendered stories informed by some semblance of reality.

    -R.E.

  • Let Interactions Bear Some of the Weight of Worldbuilding

    Let Interactions Bear Some of the Weight of Worldbuilding

    Coffee Talk:

    The idea of characters ‘playing off of each other’ is as old as dialogue. When the main characters in stories or scenes don’t interact, they can feel disjointed – almost as if they are not occupying the same space, at the same time. There are, of course, instances where writers will want to use this disconnect to dramatic effect. For most narrative moments, however, my characters will be interacting. Interacting with each other, with themselves, and with the scenery itself.  Deciding how to manage those interactions can lead to a wealth of fun.

     

    Just like interacting with the environment, characters need to fill each other’s space.
    When painting an object close to another, light from the environment will bounce off of the setting as well as other objects, changing the light before it reaches the object.

    The same is true for characters in their environments. Each individual views the setting through their own eyes and yet, what they see is indeed colored by the presence of others. Just as in life, how you feel about where you are is tempered by the company kept.

    A scene where a character is visiting the pier that they grew up fishing from could be warm and nostalgic…

    …were it not cooled by the assassin marching them to the boat that will likely be the place they die.

    Character interactions can also be a fun way to divulge to the reader important information that you don’t want to state outright. When characters react not only to the presence of one another, but the very words a character says, things can get interesting. Depending on how you have fleshed out the relationships, the same phrase can mean something totally different from one conversation to the next. It can also bear some of the responsibility of tying together distant moments in a story.


    EARLY:
    “You’ll have to carry your own baggage from here on out, Eliza.” Mother was more hen today than usual, clucking about and taking her pecks where she could get them. “I can’t be expected to do your lifting for the rest of your life.”
    LATER:
    The valet tapped me on the shoulder gently, tilting her head toward the door marked ‘21’.
    “You’ll have to carry your own baggage from here, miss. Sorry, but we can’t cross the thresholds.”
    “It’s fine,” I said, “I’m used to doing my own lifting.”

     

    Interactions need not be more than simple conversation if they are intended to bear the weight of important information.

    Character conversations can be to narrative effect and are oftentimes the most realistic and organic way to divulge lore that is not otherwise written out for the reader.  A simple conversation is a great medium for foreshadowing.

    When folding in further elements of interactivity, simple conversations can be made to carry complex messages.  A touch of a leg, a glance over a shoulder, a smile that disappears as quickly as it appears.  When used in contrast to the words spoken, non-verbal interaction can enhance a scene in evocative ways.

    Character physical interactions also can give you a better sense of the space that they fill.

    Imagine two characters: one needs to carefully squeeze past the other, maybe wrinkles their nose at the scent of someone’s cologne – or – wishes they were one step closer so that they could hold the other’s hand, perhaps they strain to hear the words spoken over the wind howling between them.

    Interactions can reinforce how a character feels about another, or, create tension, should the character not behave the way that they feel – or the way they speak.

    Using interactions can help to add weight to a story without the need to add volume.  Sure, every writer counts their words at some point, but what matters most is making every word count.

    -R.E.